Closing the door he hangs his jacket up, makes the rounds in the room shaking everyone’s hands, then he migrates to the big chair in front of the fire, warms his hands a bit and then he sits. Someone always brings him a cup of coffee, he catches up with those he hasn’t seen since last deer season, listens to every word of every hunter’s tales, having been prompted of a memory, he adds one of his own.
Not hunted now in many years, but he so enjoys cabin time with all, a slice of cherry pie, before dinner, well of course, and one after the roast beef dinner to boot.
He asks to see a youngster’s new knife, he admires it, mentions the heft, says, you know a sharp knife is good thing, handing it back, the kid smiles.
After taking inventory on who did or didn’t shoot what, he wants to know if anyone hunted out of his cedar swamp stand. Two guys say yes, but neither shot a deer from it this year. Oh well there’s always next season, but he says that’s been a good stand over the years and some of us who hunted with him, and even had some good luck out of certainly agree.
When it’s time for him to go, two of us slip a set of wrapped packages of backstraps under his arm, so he doesn’t go home without some venison, because that just wouldn’t be right, after all, he is still a hunter to us.
- The Trout Whisperer
